


A Lighthearted Bet

by QueenoftheProcrastination



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3564986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheProcrastination/pseuds/QueenoftheProcrastination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Trevelyan watches a sparring match between Iron Bull and Cullen</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lighthearted Bet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr ask prompt: cullen and bull are sparring, and the inquisitor stops to watch. "quick, commander, the boss is watching, take your shirt off," "maker's breath, bull," "fine, she can just stare at me," "now that you mention it, i am feeling sort of warm"

Elena Trevelyan strolled through Skyhold’s courtyard, the early morning light warming her skin. Around her, the people of the Inquisition were going about the beginning of their day, and every now and then someone would pause to nod in her direction with a soft “Inquisitor”. As she walked up the stairs from the lower level, the sounds of soldiers practicing in the yard became louder, and over that, cheers. Approaching the practice ring set up in front of the Herald’s Rest, she could see a large crowd of people gathered. 

“Morning, Sunshine,” Varric greeted as Elena drew nearer to the ruckus. 

“Morning Varric. What’s going on?” She asked, standing on tiptoe to see around the mob. 

A loud cheer rose up, muffling the dwarf’s reply at first.

“Huh?”

“Tiny and Curly, they’re having at it. Here,” Varric started pushing through the crowd. “Make way, make way, Herald of Andraste coming through, Maker’s chosen coming through!”

Elena scrambled after him, finally pushing her way through a throng of elbows to the wooden ring. 

“Oh,” she murmured, eyes wide. 

The Iron Bull and Commander Cullen danced around each other in the ring, weapons drawn. Sunlight glinted off of the metal of their blades. Thought Bull was an imposing sight, Elena couldn’t help but find her gazed pulled to the Commander. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest as she took in the sight of him. Cullen stood, sword and shield in hand, ready to strike. He had shed his usual armor in favor of a light tunic, sleeves pushed up passed his elbows; the white linen clung to his back and chest, revealing enough of his hard muscles to make Elena blush. She was trying, despite herself, to keep her infatuation with the Commander hidden from her advisors and the rest of the Inquisition at large. But he was just so _dashing_. Like a hero straight out of one of Varric’s tales. A good man with kind eyes who surely had no time for a silly girl and her crush, a silly girl who’d never even kissed a man before.

Bull’s eyes fell on her for a moment, and smile lifted on his lips as he swung his battle ax in an arc above their heads. Cullen blocked with his shield, swinging his sword towards Bull’s unprotected side. Dancing back, Bull escaped the Commander’s attack. She saw his lips move, eyes dodging between his opponent and where Elena stood in the crowd as he spoke. Cullen turned slightly, glancing back at her. Bull took the opportunity to strike, and Cullen was knocked to the ground with the pommel of his opponent’s ax.

“Cullen!” Elena’s hand flew to her mouth, covering a gasp that made Varric raise his eyebrow. 

Despite the resounding crack the metal had made with his skull, he appeared to be alright. Shaking his head, Cullen sat up, his expression a little dazed. 

“Best two out of three, Commander?” Bull asked, offering a hand down. 

Cullen nodded, pulling himself up with Bull’s help. Elena saw the Qunari whisper something to his opponent. She could only make out bits of it, given the cheering and general chatter around her. Whatever it was though, it made the tips of Cullen’s ears go red. 

“…shirt off…I know…making eyes…other…”

“Maker’s breath, Bull…”

“Fine…stare at me…”

“Now…mention it….warm…”

Before she could piece it together, Varric’s voice rang out. “Winner gets a kiss from the Herald of Andraste! Come place your bets!”

Elena’s eyes widened as her gaze snapped to the rogue at her side. “What?!”

“Oh com’on, Sunshine. It’s all in the spirit of competition,” Varric chuckled before being swamped with a mob of people ready to win some coin. 

She looked back at the practice ring and felt the breath whistle out of her lungs. Gripping the wooden fence before her for support, her heart pounded in her chest at the sight of Cullen standing with his back to her, white shirt fluttering to the ground. 

_Sweet Maker_.

Hard muscles rippled under his skin, flexing as he rolled his shoulders and hefted his weapons aloft. Scars crisscrossed his back, a testament to old battles and hard won victories. Elena bit the inside of her cheek and gripped the wood harder. She suddenly felt too hot, despite the cool mountain air. Growing up in the Chantry, she had limited experience with men in general, and she was certain she’d never seen a man in such a state of undress before—excepting Bull, of course, who ran around half naked no matter what. But somehow the fearsome Qunari did not inspire her hands to shake and her blood to quicken quite the way the handsome Commander did.

In a flash, Cullen attacked, unleashing a furry of blows. His sword glinted through the air, morning sun sparking like fire off of the metal. Bull blocked frantically, each hit landing closer and closer to him as the Qunari was pushed backwards. 

Her eyes followed them as they dueled, exchanging blows and blocks. Heart pounding with each turn of battle, until she was cheering along with everyone else. Bull rushed forward, head bend down in an imitation of his namesake. Cullen dodged out of the way, finally turning so that he was facing her. 

“Oh,” she gasped, unable to keep her eyes from raking over his chest, even as a blush spread over her cheeks. 

Broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, where the crest of his hipbones peaking out over the band of his trousers. Golden chest hair covered the hard muscles of his torso. Her gaze followed the narrowing trail down his body, past his navel to where it dipped below his belt. The way his leather trousers clung to his thighs left no question in her mind that his legs were just as strong as the rest of him.

A throat cleared near her elbow. Glancing down, she saw Varric raise an eyebrow at her. 

“Enjoying the view, Sunshine?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she squeaked, heat spreading to the tips of her ears as she turned away from the dwarf’s laughing eyes. 

Was she really that obvious? Maker she hoped not. It would be so embarrassing if he knew—how silly she must look to him, with her moon-maddened sighs and virginal flushes. She wouldn’t know the first thing about being with a man, even if Cullen returned her feelings.

A roar rose up in the crowd, capturing her attentions towards the ring once more. Bull lay flat on his back, Cullen standing over him, sword pointed at his neck. The Commander’s shield lay on the dirt next to Bull’s head, two horn intends clearly scaring the metal. 

Bull laughed, “you win, Commander; I yield. If you ever want to do mercenary work, let me know.” 

Cullen sheathed his sword, before helping the Qunari up with an extended hand and a nod. Bull said something else to the man, too low for Elena to hear it, both turning to look at her. 

Twisting a lock of hair through her fingers, she tried to look anywhere but Cullen’s warm amber gaze as she felt it sweep over her figure. Sweet Maker, the way he was looking at her was enough to set her to fire!

She glanced at Varric, mentally taking a note to yell at him for promising her kisses without consulting her first. Of all the things to promise! Surely her general ineptitude around men had clued the observant storyteller into the fact she had zero experience with romance or, really, interacting with men in general. Varric sensed her glare, but smiled and jerked his head back, indicating she should pay attention to what was happening in the ring.

Bull placed a massive hand on Cullen’s shoulder and gave him a shove. “Go collect your prize! She’s right there, Commander, ripe for the plucking!”

Elena was perfectly aware of everyone watching her as Cullen slowly crossed the ring, a confident smile on his handsome face. Her heart beat faster and harder with each of his steps, until she was sure then entire crowd—nay the entire world—could hear it hammering against her rib cage. He was right in front of the fence now, arms folded over his chest, towering over her; without the Iron Bull next to him, she could feel just how big of a man he really was. 

“My lady,” he greeted, a smile tugging at the scar bisecting his lips. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Commander,” she demurred.

One big hand came to cup her chin, tilting her head up enough that she had no choice but to look into his eyes, “I believe I was promised a kiss for winning,” he paused, searching her face. “That is, unless you’d prefer not to.”

Andraste perverse her—he’d never touched her before, and now, she couldn’t think. All she could focus on what the feeling of his hand, gentle but firm, on her skin. Why was he giving her the choice? How could she possibly choose? If she refused him, they would look absurd, standing here, gazing at each other. Everyone would know her to be a coward—too afraid of a silly kiss between colleagues to follow through on a lighthearted bet. But if she agreed—Sweet Maker, if she agreed, they would all see just how much she yearned for him.

“I—no, I mean, of course not,” she heard herself say. “A promise is a promise.”

He flashed a grin at her, sending a pulse of heat straight to through her. _This man is going to be the death of me_. She could feel everyone watching them, waiting with anticipation to see something suddenly so intimate play out.

Slowly, his hand glided along her jaw to settle against the nape of her neck, fingers tangling slightly in her hair.

“You’ll have to come down here and get it, though; you really are too tall,” she murmured, trying to distract the both of them from the way her entire body trembled under his touch. 

“My apologizes,” he whispered, clearly not contrite in the least, as he bent down towards her. 

Rising up on the tips of her toes to meet him halfway, her hands settled on his bare shoulders for leverage. Elena leaned forward, the cotton of her tunic sliding over this naked chest. Fully intending to give him a quick peck on the cheek, she let out a small gasp as at the last moment Cullen turned his head, capturing her mouth with his. Elena could feel his self-satisfied smirk against her lips, as his other arm came to wrap around her waist. Her eyes fluttered closed, her gasp turning into a soft sigh, as she leaned her body into his embrace. Cullen’s skin was warm and smooth under her touch, and he parted his lips ever so slightly against her kiss.

She stood in a daze, soaking in the sweet and utter contentment of having his mouth on hers. _So this is what it feels like_. After a moment she pulled away, a red flush spreading over her cheeks and down her neck, as a loud cheer erupted around them. 

“Congratulations on your victory, Commander,” she said, as the warmth of their embrace settled over her.

He studied her, golden eyes raking over her flushed face and trembling body, taking in the way her pulse thudded against the pale skin of her throat. A knowing grin spread over his lips.

“Yes,” he agreed, voice low and husky. “A great victory, I think.”


End file.
